


The Magician's Mentor

by Zaadi



Series: Alternate Third Series [5]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaadi/pseuds/Zaadi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is missing from Camelot.  By choice: he has become the Captain of the Guard for King Leodogran of Cameliard.  Through his own actions, he brings the wrath of a priestess down on the kingdom, unless he can appease her.  Meanwhile, Merlin becomes apprentice to the kingdom's physician and sorcerer, a position he cannot keep secret forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magician's Mentor

**Author's Note:**

> "Alternate Third Series" means exactly what it says. I envisioned these stories as a full television series with each story as an 'episode.' However, I also envisioned an arc; thus while each story has its own fully-resolved plot, there are elements which carry over to other stories, such as Merlin and Arthur arriving in another kingdom and staying there for a while. This Cameliard Cycle lasts basically five 'episodes'--I'm pretty sure I didn't break any rules.

 

**3.5 The Magician’s Mentor**

* * *

Sir Lamorack had nothing to report.

“Send messengers to every nearby kingdom—someone must know something!”  Uther let his head fall back against his throne.  His hands gripped the arms of the chair, and his eyes carried bleary, blood-shot desperation to the ceiling, the sky.  The gathered court passed anxious glances around the room. 

It had been three weeks since they’d last heard from Arthur.

 

                                                                                          ~Ò~

 

Arthur and Merlin stood off to one side in the court of Cameliard.  Modest pomp and ceremony surrounded them.  The king, Leodogran, was attired in dark grey, a deep forest-green cloak draped over his form, and his crown shining across his forehead.  Blaise, the court physician and Leodogran’s foremost advisor, wore crimson robes.  Leodogran’s daughter, Anna had on a violet dress in a foreign style—from the farthest east—and her hair was an elaborate testimony to some maid’s skill.  The rest of the assembled court also displayed a rainbow of finery, down to the humblest servant.  Even Arthur and Merlin wore the polished clothes that had been provided by their hosts. 

The court of Cameliard was gathered for this formal occasion at the behest of the Lady Julia, by far the most adorned.  Her shining jewels and shinier dress accosted the eye with wealth and power, and overshadowed King Leodogran, who seemed content to play the spectator to whatever show was about to be performed.  The event had been gossiped about for the past few days.  All eyes turned to the large double-doors at the end of the hall as they opened for the retinue of the Lord Erik.

A suitor had arrived to court Princess Anna.

His heavy steps pounded against the stones as he approached the Lady Julia, dissonant with the short, lithe form that made them.  Erik was only slightly taller than Julia and Anna, and more as a result of thick-soled boots and a posture that strained upward than of actual height.  The Lady Julia kissed him on each cheek and welcomed him to Cameliard.  He bowed low to Leodogran who tilted his head somewhat, and leaned back his throne as if he were about to fall asleep.  Julia clenched her jaw and pushed Erik over to Anna.

“Princess Anna.”  Erik bowed as he kissed her hand.

She smiled.  “Welcome, Lord Erik, to our kingdom.  We hope our hospitality can meet your needs, and that you will find your stay here enjoyable.”  She spoke to both Erik and to the retinue behind him, making eye contact with as many as possible.

“I hope my time here serves both our pleasures, Princess Anna.”

One of Erik’s servants stepped forward, a halter in his outstretched arms.

“And to that end,” Erik continued, “I’d like to present you with this gift.  It is the finest halter ever made, beautifully ornamented and more durable than stone, let me tell you.”

Anna took the halter from the servant, her face blank and unmoved as she examined the designs stamped into the leather.

“I was told that you were quite the able horsewoman, and that riding was a favored pastime,” Erik glanced at Julia, the poise of his voice faltering.

Anna smiled again.  “It’s beautiful.”  She handed it to a nearby servant.  Merlin had to look twice as he realized that the servant was Caradoc.  He stared hard at her, at the wrap around her head, the modest clothes.  She took the halter from Anna, glanced at it, then let it descend, folded between her hands.

“Perhaps we should show the Lord Erik around?”  Julia had scrutinized every nuance of Anna’s reactions, and now stepped forward to retake command as hostess.

“That sounds lovely.”  Erik held out his arm to Anna.

“Of course,” Anna smiled and looked down at Erik’s proffered arm.  “Let’s start by showing you to your quarters where you can wash and rest from your long journey.”  She took Erik’s arm in hers, shooting Julia a look as they walked towards the door.  Julia smirked at Anna’s back, lifted her head high and smoothed the front of her dress before following.  Leodogran continued to watch from his throne, his sole movement a twitch at the corners of his mouth once Julia and the retinue of Lord Erik were out of the room.

A buzz rose as the court began to murmur and mumble, conversing to the side, and exchanging looks that varied from amused to bemused to apprehensive to bored.  Caradoc wandered over to Blaise, who was standing beside Merlin and Arthur.

“Do you recognize this?”  She handed Blaise the halter.

Blaise squinted at the designs, running his fingers along the length of every part.  Merlin and Arthur looked over his shoulder as he studied it.  The designs seemed to be interspersed with writing.

“I can’t place it off the top of my head,” Blaise looked at Caradoc, “but I’ll look further into it.  Make sure it’s nothing . . . untoward.”

“Thank you,” Caradoc smiled before leaving.

“Untoward?”  Arthur stared at Blaise.  “Is there something I should know?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Leodogran asked me to act as Captain of the Guard, so any possible threat to the princess does concern me.”  Arthur stepped closer to Blaise.

Blaise narrowed his eyes at Arthur, then sidestepped him, heading for the door.

“ _Blaise_.”  Leodogran still seemed half-asleep on his throne.  A muscle in Blaise’s neck tightened as he clenched his jaw and grimaced.  Blaise motioned with his head for Arthur to follow as he walked away.

“Leodogran asked you to _be_ Captain of the Guard, not to act as such for some indeterminate amount of time,” he hissed once Arthur and Merlin caught up to him in the corridor.  “I don’t know what lark you think you’re having here, _Prince Arthur_ , but when you’re done the damage had better be minimal.”

Arthur and Merlin stopped in their tracks.  They stole anxious looks at Blaise and furtive glances at the deserted space around them.

Blaise rolled his eyes and continued walking.  “Yes, Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot, I know who you are,” he whispered.  “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.  The only reason Anna and Leodogran don’t know is because they don’t want to know—they think you’re here for some benevolent purpose and see fit to respect your secrecy.”

“Why do you think I’m here for some malevolent purpose?”  Arthur matched Blaise’s pace as they sped across the courtyard.

“Why haven’t you accepted the larger chambers they offered you, and no more than a few changes of outfit to compensate for the sole set of clothes you arrived here with?  Because you know you don’t belong, that your presence is an affront to Leodogran and the things he stands for.”  Blaise opened the door to his chambers, nearly shutting it on Arthur who caught it with one hand and followed Blaise in.  Blaise went straight to his bookshelves and began perusing the spines, ignoring his guests.

“Is the halter magic?” Merlin asked, watching him.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“But you assume it’s dangerous?”  Arthur picked the halter up from the table where Blaise had tossed it, letting the previous conversation drop.

“I assume it’s different.”  Blaise climbed a ladder leaning against the shelf.

“Is there any other reason to worry about Anna?”  Arthur still held the halter.

“Leodogran didn’t seem too concerned,” Merlin said.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Cameliard is only just large enough to give any would-be conquerors pause.”  Blaise selected a book and flipped through it, balancing on the ladder.

“A war is going to cost, yes I think we’ve already proven that.”  Arthur put the halter down and crossed his arms.

“What does this have to do with the halter?” Merlin asked as he picked it up, holding it while looking up at Blaise.

“Because our kingdom is large enough to want.  And the easiest way to gain control and or possession of Cameliard and its modest wealth is via marriage to the princess and sole surviving child of King Leodogran.”  Blaise focused on the volume in his hands, his words a recital.  He put the book back on the shelf.

“What about the Lady Julia—this seems to be her affair?”  Arthur watched Blaise descend the ladder.

“Very perceptive.”  Blaise’s foot hit the floor and he glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye before moving the ladder a few feet down the bookcase.  “Cousin Julia only had daughters, two of which are married off in France—she so very much hates to be idle.”  Blaise climbed up the ladder.

“Where’s her husband?”  Merlin approached the shelf and began looking at the books piled at eye-level.

“Dead.  And he was only a minor lord in Brittany, anyway—no lands of his own.  Don’t bother down there,” he turned his head to Merlin below him, “any information about charmed halters will be too obscure to keep ready at hand.”

“How far would Lord Erik go to win the kingdom?” Arthur asked.

“I have no idea.”  Blaise’s attention was still on the books.  “I’d be more worried about Julia—this is the fifth suitor she’s thrown at Anna.  Add the two or three that have come on their own, and Anna has developed quite a reputation for being difficult to impress.”

Arthur contemplated this information for a moment.  Merlin had picked up a book and was perusing its contents, reverently turning each page.

“I want Merlin to help you.”  Arthur headed for the door.

“I don’t need it.”  Blaise didn’t look up from the scroll in his hands.

“He’s used to it,” Arthur called as he left the room.  Blaise looked up then, clenching his jaw.

“Does he always throw his weight around, or should I be insulted?”

Merlin smiled.  “He’s only mostly arrogant.  And I have helped figure out magic problems—I help Gaius in Camelot—he’s the court physician.  And he advises the king.  And knows about magic—you’d probably like him, you’re a lot alike—”

A large tome dropped, hitting Merlin as he simultaneously tried to block and catch it.  Blaise came down from the ladder and walked straight up to Merlin, backing him into the shelf.

“You don’t know me.  You know _nothing_.  Don’t compare me to Uther’s physician.”

Blaise bent down and retrieved the immense volume, taking it to the table, smoothing out the pages folded and bent from the fall.  Merlin watched, still backed against the shelf.

~ 

In honor of Lord Erik’s arrival, Julia threw a party.   Or rather, Julia made Leodogran throw a party—as enormous a fete as she could finagle.  The great hall was decorated in flowers and pennants, and the finest place settings adorned the long table at which the guests dined.  Julia had managed to conjure minstrels to entertain, and the room was filled with the sounds of pipes and the aroma of roses mixing with burning wicks and candle wax—and food.

The main course was boar—a huge one—one that Arthur had caught.  As Leodogran praised his skill in killing such a large creature, Arthur nodded deferentially.  Anna, sitting across from him smiled as Erik fidgeted in his seat next to her.  Julia sat between Arthur and Leodogran, across from Erik, and noted every sleight, every word choice, every facial tick of those around her—she had taken but one bite of food, letting her fork dangle in her hand like another piece of jewelry.

“Is she trying to arrange a marriage or a peace treaty?”  Merlin leaned his head toward Caradoc.  They stood at the edges of the room with other servants waiting to fill a goblet or otherwise assist someone.

“Julia likes control.”  Caradoc’s eyes didn’t leave the table in front of her.

Merlin’s attention, on the other hand, moved to Caradoc.  She was dressed as a servant still, her hair wrapped on top her head beneath a kerchief.  Her brown eyes focused on Anna, and her face was expressionless.  Merlin smiled, “so are you a servant now, or still a spy?  Or a knight?”

“I’m what Anna needs me to be.”

The current conversation at the table consisted of Erik’s account of a great hunt, in which he had succeeded in killing a lion.  Anna ate, lifting her food to her mouth and chewing to a practiced rhythm that could count the minutes.  She nodded intermittently.  The Lady Julia watched Anna, her eyes narrowing further and further with each of Anna’s mouthfuls.  In the middle of Erik’s description of the lion’s claws across his side—for which he leaned over to show the position of a scar along his obliques—Anna met Julia’s eyes.  She stared back, swallowing her food.

“My Lord,” Anna touched Erik’s arm and smiled ruefully, “it seems Lady Julia doesn’t appreciate the danger a lion can pose or the sharpness of its claws—perhaps if you moved on to the final blow.”

Erik looked at Julia, at her uneaten food, at the fact she was still looking at Anna.  “Of course,” he said.  “Well, I was bleeding profusely, as you can imagine . . .”

“He’s kind of full of it, isn’t he?”  Merlin again leaned over to Caradoc.

“The Lord Erik prides himself on his hunting prowess.”  Caradoc still minded the table.

“Then he’s got competition because Ar— the Captain also likes to hunt.”  Merlin turned back to the table, noting that Arthur’s face was scrunched and sneering, and that Leodogran was stifling a laugh as he, too was watching Arthur.  Erik continued his story, unaware.

“That is the gist of the conversation," Caradoc sighed impatiently.

Erik’s story had ended.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such an impressive feat.”  Julia clasped her hands before her, smiling at Erik.  “Have you?”  She looked at Leodogran and Anna.

“I believe all your guests have had hunting stories—though I can’t remember if any were as impressive.”  Leodogran turned to his daughter.

“Let’s see,” Anna’s eyes moved upwards, toward the corner of the ceiling as she pondered.  “Two huge boars—the animals killed, that is—this will be the third lion,” she pointed at Erik, “always impressive—oh and one man claimed to have slaughtered an ancient elephant that had wandered away from an Indian king and traveled the world.”  She cocked her head at Julia.

“By far the most _entertaining_ story,” Leodogran said.

“And, of course, the giant bird.”

“A Roc,” Blaise said.

“A Roc?” Arthur asked as Merlin rushed forward to refill his goblet.

“A creature of magic,” Blaise said.  “A giant bird, said to carry off elephants for food, interestingly enough.”

“Do you get a lot of magic creatures around here?” Arthur asked.

“No, actually,” Anna said.

“In fact,” said Blaise, “I’d say we’re one of the least harassed kingdoms.”

A look of disappointment soured Erik’s features, and he looked to his plate, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork.

“Although,” Blaise methodically arranged the remainders of his food, “there is supposedly a beautiful white hart wandering our forests.  Its fur almost shimmers and it has one foot of crimson.”

“Oh really?”  Julia looked askance at Blaise, then glared at Leodogran and Anna in turn.

“Well, it’s said to be an extraordinarily elusive creature—otherworldly, in fact.  So awe-inspiring that any lucky enough to lay eyes on it are filled with such reverence that it has plenty of opportunity to escape.  No one can catch it.”

“I’m sure a hart is easy enough prey,” Erik said.

“Ignore them, Erik,” Julia reached across the table to pat his hand.  “They’re just trying to get rid of you.”

“Julia!”  Leodogran said.  He turned to Erik beside him.  “You are welcome here, and if we must beg forgiveness for our eccentricities, we will.  But be assured, your pleasure is our pleasure.”

“Then you will permit me to hunt this hart—at least for a day.  I would test my skill against such an elusive creature,” he looked at Blaise and glanced at Anna, “not to impress anyone.”

“Well said.”  Julia smiled.

Leodogran bowed his head.  “As you wish,” he said, the matter settled.

 

“You’re going, too, aren’t you?”  Merlin sat down on the edge of his bed, taking off his shoes and addressing Arthur’s back.  The room was dark except for a single candle burning on the table that stood between their two beds.  Arthur was already abed, facing the opposite wall.

“I have to ensure the safety of Leodogran’s guest,” Arthur said to the wall.

“Right.”  Merlin waited for Arthur to respond or turn or move, but he was motionless.  “What happens if he catches this hart before you do?”  Merlin could almost feel Arthur rolling his eyes. 

Arthur’s back twitched, and he rotated his neck so that he was speaking upward.  “What did Blaise discover about the halter—he gave it back to Anna.”

“It is magic,” Merlin pulled his shirt over his head.  “A special halter that belonged to some old dead guy.”  Merlin stuck his arms through another shirt as Arthur rolled over to look at him.

“What does it do?”

“If you tie it to your bed, you get the horse that’s best for you.”  Merlin lay back on his bed, folding his hands on his chest and staring up at the ceiling.

“You mean tie it in the stables?”

“No, the book said to your bed.  I guess you don’t want to confuse the horse about who’s supposed to be riding it.”

“It makes a horse appear next to your bed?”

“Yep.  Arthur, what if this hart you’re hunting tomorrow is an otherworldly creature?”

“There’s no such thing—just because magic is allowed here, it doesn’t mean the whole world is upside-down.”  Arthur turned back to face the wall.

Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur. 

“Are you going to blow out the candle?”  Arthur pulled his blanket further up his shoulders.

Merlin leaned over and puffed a loud burst of air, snuffing the flame.  The room changed.  The piercing golden light was replaced by the cold white of the moon shining through the window.  As the light bounced around the surfaces of tables, walls, floor and chairs, it created a subtle blue shroud that permeated the room.  Merlin stared up into this crisp darkness long into the night before finally falling asleep.

~ 

Caradoc awoke to a rancid stench.

Her half-asleep brain barely registered the roan horse tied to her bedpost.  Her eyes adjusted, cleared, and brought her full attention to the pile of crap just beneath the horse’s rear.

“Are you kidding me?”  She sat up in bed.  She looked at the horse, the crap, the horse.  “ _Are you kidding me?_ ”

“Well, it is a beautiful horse,” Anna said when she entered the room.  Caradoc slept in chambers that few wanted to use, as they were rather high up in one of the towers.  Anna had wakened early and run up to see if the halter really did make a horse appear.  Caradoc had insisted on trying it first, to make sure there were no hidden tricks—Anna had suggested she sleep closer to the stables, but Caradoc thought it better to make it as inconvenient and impractical as possible for someone to simply slip the halter on a horse while she was sleeping.  To further rule out a human agent, they had kept the trial a secret.

“How long do you think he’s been standing here?”  Anna patted the horse’s bare back.

“Long enough.”  Caradoc stared at the shit.

“I’ll have Rhona take care of that.  In the meantime, will he be able to get down the stairs—we should get him stabled.”  Anna began to untie the halter from the bedpost.

“Yeah, the stairs should be wide enough.”  Caradoc tied up her hair, and she and Anna managed to maneuver the horse downstairs without incident before joining the morning ado. 

Or rather, avoiding the morning ado.  The pageantry that had accompanied Erik’s arrival bled into his hunting preparations—an atmosphere of ceremony that Arthur found time-consuming and irksome.  Merlin watched his terse stride along the street, his annoyed stare that he kept from everyone but Merlin, and his overall impatience at Julia’s insistence that everything be just so.

“You’d think she was his mother,” he said to Merlin, who nodded vaguely and smiled even more imperceptibly, continuing to adjust Arthur’s saddle on a beautiful black Arabian.

“I think I messed up Lady Julia’s plans,” Erik said to Arthur before mounting his horse.

“I’m sure she’s used to it,” Arthur said, as much to himself as to Erik.

“Well then, shall we have ourselves some real sport?”  Erik set off at a gallop through the streets, leaving Arthur, Merlin and the rest of the hunting party to follow. 

They sped through the forest surrounding Cameliard, to the area where the mysterious and elusive hart had once been seen—by the master of the hunt, Myles, who swore they would never find it, but sent his hounds loose anyway.  All eyes were peeled to the woods around them.  And though Merlin mistrusted this pursuit—he suspected Julia was right, that Blaise was baiting them—he too, focused his intentions toward spotting an otherworldly hart.  The chase ran long into the afternoon—pressing toward a dense region of the woods where Myles said few hunted.  Arthur was bent so intently to tracking what Merlin began to conclude was a figment, that they soon lost sight of the rest of the group.

“Should we find them?” Merlin asked as Arthur studied the ground.

“I’m sure Erik can take care of himself,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin glanced around, twisting at every sound until Arthur yanked him down.

“If you’d like to return to the castle, feel free.”

“I don’t remember the way we came.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “At least stay quiet.”  Arthur jerked, his lips parted as he spied something beyond Merlin’s shoulder.  Merlin turned around, but saw nothing.  Arthur pushed past him, jogging into the brush.  Merlin ran after, but lost track of him.

“Arthur!” he called to the enveloping foliage. 

The chirping of birds and a breeze through the leaves called back.  Merlin swung around in a wide circle.  “Arthur!” he yelled again, running side to side—he spotted Arthur crouched, crossbow to his face.  Merlin crept up beside him just in time to see the hart grazing, its fur ethereal golden-white, its antlers curved and polished, its chomping jaw serene.  Enthralled, Merlin continued to stare, positive the creature was still standing, though he knew it was dead—he’d heard the twang as the arrow released and saw a drop of blood on the fur as it hit.  The blood was the same color as the hart’s left front foot.

“Aha!”  Arthur stood up, a broad smile flooding his face.

“What is it with you and killing things?”  Merlin shook his head, and looked back toward the way he came, scolding the trees.  Arthur approached the creature, circled, admired.  Others from the hunting party emerged from the flora, saw the dead hart, and slapped Arthur on the back, smiling as they called to everyone else. 

“You killed it?”  Myles looked at the white body on the ground, staring for a long while, his face drawn, disappointed and mournful.

Erik arrived, veins popping, jaw clenched.  “Congratulations,” he grimaced at Arthur.  As the group carried the animal back to Cameliard, Erik in the rear hurled his bow to the ground and punched the air.  Only Merlin saw him—but Merlin was more interested in the spot where the hart had formerly, once upon a time, been grazing—it seemed emptier than possible.

As they approached the city, they lost all sense of success and jubilation.  Before their eyes, the sun refracted and broke into a line of three.  Three suns over the three tallest towers of the castle.  Within the walls of Cameliard, the people stared up, stared at each other, stared up—on the ground their shadows had also split, as if echoing.

The hunting party entered the gates and the two outer suns closed in on the center one.  But not to recombine—they eclipsed, shuttering the middle sun into a bleak ring of fire that lit the world with shadow.  In that shadow, crystalline vines shot up from the ground along every wall and façade—white stone branches that resembled cracks as much as plants.

When they walked into the throne room, servants were busy trying to light candles, torches, a fire, but no flame could be kindled.  The hall was bathed in a white light emitted by the crystal vines that had also invaded the insides of the city’s buildings.

“Who did it?”  Leodogran paced the room, meeting the eye of everyone present.  “WHO.  _DIDDIT_?”

Anna, standing off to one side, looked to Caradoc, still dressed as a servant.  Caradoc shook her head no.

“Whoever did it—FIX IT!”

Blaise burst into the room and took one look at the dead hart.  “You killed it?”

“You said to.”  Arthur’s satisfaction had disappeared the moment the sun had tripled. 

“You weren’t supposed to kill it.”  Blaise stared at the creature, his features anxious, shocked.

“You specifically said this creature could be hunted!”

“You did give that impression, Blaise.”  Anna walked forward, looking first to the hart, then to Blaise as she took a spot beside Arthur.

“He wasn’t supposed to succeed!”

Arthur threw up his hands, his gaze.  “Great.  So what, do I have to be tested now?”

Blaise narrowed his eyes at Arthur.  “Have you done this before?”  He stepped toward Arthur.

“Killed a normal-looking hart?—yes.”  Arthur stared at Blaise as Merlin raised his eyebrows and looked elsewhere.

“I said it wasn’t normal.”

“You said it was elusive.”

“I don’t care who said what,” Leodogran glared at Blaise.  “Fix it.”  

“How?”  Arthur looked to Leodogran, to Blaise, to Anna.

A resounding crack of thunder shook the hall, and a hail of glass and sand blew throughout the kingdom, though the sky was clear and empty—the hollowed-out sun its only occupant.  In the throne room, everyone froze, servants and nobles.  Everyone but Arthur, Merlin and Blaise.  Arthur turned to Anna and watched as she seemed to become encased in a film of glass.  Her body shone and reflected, and she stood as a statue.  Before the throne itself, a streak of lightening tore a gash in the air—a woman stepped into the room as if coming out from behind a curtain.

She ignored the surroundings, her icy blue eyes concerned only with Arthur and Blaise.  Her dark hair fell loose, reaching all the way to her thighs.  As she walked toward them, her footfalls slapped against the stone with the sound of bare feet, and her dark red dress brushed the floor.  Her shoulders were bare, and the sleeves hugging her arms ran past her wrists and halfway over her hands. 

“I suppose I should be impressed that you were unaffected by my pet’s aura.”  She looked directly at Arthur.

“No,” Arthur said.  “I killed it,” he glanced at Erik’s glazed form, “because I could.  There’s nothing impressive about that.  I’m truly sorry.”

She eyed Arthur’s height, from hair to boot, her face inscrutable.

“You’re Ninniane’s sister,” Blaise said, a statement and a question.  He stared at a tattoo on her shoulder—a circle of three birds—a crow, a rooster and a hawk.

She glanced at Blaise, then addressed Arthur.  “Will you atone?”

Arthur looked quickly to Merlin and Blaise.  “What do I have to do?” he said to her.

She turned, but continued staring at Arthur out of the corner of her eyes.  She walked around the three of them, slowly—examining or pondering—and when she had completed her circle, rotated her body to once again face Arthur. 

“You like to hunt,” she said.  “Go kill the Giant Serpent of Coludd.  You have until the next full moon.”

“What happens if he doesn’t succeed?” Merlin asked.

“Then grow accustomed to this light—and don’t count on it to nourish your crops.”

“And that’s all I have to do?”

“That’s all you have to do.”  She touched Arthur’s forehead, and a flash of gold lit up her eyes—Arthur, too, became petrified.

“Which just leaves you,” she turned to Blaise, eyes mere slits on her face.

“I told them the hart was an otherworldly creature.”  Blaise’s voice was low, and his head lowered.

“You told them he was a prize to be caught.”

To this Blaise said nothing, casting his eyes down to the floor.

She looked at Merlin.  “This idiot needs to learn.  You will make him your apprentice.”

“What?” Blaise looked at Merlin.

“You mean, like teach me magic?”  Merlin started to smile.

“No, I mean actually teach you magic—you are nowhere near as skilled as you should be.”

“So send him back to Camelot—dear Gaius seems to have had an attack of conscience.”

“Merlin needs to be taught, not coddled.  So long as he is at Arthur’s side, you will instruct, advise, and otherwise mentor him in the arts of enchantment and sorcery.  These are the terms.”  Her gaze dominated Blaise and he bowed his head.  She turned to Merlin.  “I granted you this consideration,” she indicated Arthur, “so learn well.”

“Or the curse won’t be lifted,” Merlin nodded.

She rolled her eyes.  “Your performance has no bearing on _my_ curse.  Failure to learn, however, may have repercussions on future events.”  She turned and retraced her steps through the slit in the air.

Moonlight penetrated through the open windows, and flames lit up in servants’ hands—the hall was flooded with torchlight as everyone awoke from their stupor.  Leodogran looked around, Anna opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it again, Caradoc moved to a window, and the general atmosphere of the court was caution and confusion.

“Did something just happen?”  Sir Sagramore, an elderly councilor, said. 

“It seems our guest has a week to determine our fate,” Blaise said to Leodogran.

“I won’t fail you.”  Arthur straightened himself as he spoke.

“Whatever it is, just do it.”  The King looked over to Anna, who was moving toward Caradoc.  Leodogran also headed to a window to look outside, but turned around.  “It’s not anything . . . unfortunate, is it?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Arthur said.

“Good.”  Leodogran joined the majority of the court who were gathered at the windows, staring at the clear sky full of stars and a waxing moon. 

~

The stables were crowded the next morning as Arthur and Merlin went to saddle up for their journey.  Myles, Anna, Caradoc, Bors, and Edgar, the wizened keeper of the horses were all gathered about a sleek black Arabian.

“You rode this one on the hunt yesterday,” Myles said to Arthur.

“Yes.  Was I not supposed to?”  Arthur shot a look to Merlin.

“But it’s not your horse,” Edgar said.  “You didn’t ride it into Cameliard, and it’s not one that belongs to your men.”

“Not that I recognize,” Arthur said, looking to Merlin again, who shook his head.

“When did you first notice it?” Anna asked, crossing her arms over a green vest.

“Yesterday morning.”  Edgar looked toward the entrance—Blaise walked in.  “I thought it must’ve wandered away from some nearby town, or traveler to the city, but no one’s claimed ‘im,” Edgar continued.  “I asked around.”

“And heard stories about a levitating horse.”  Anna looked at Blaise.

“Reliable reports?” Blaise asked.

“Nope,” Edgar said.  “Mostly drunks and lovers strolling midnight lanes.  But same story from each one.”

“Thank you,” Anna said.  Edgar and Myles left.

“Blaise, look into this,” Anna said.

“Does your father know?”

Anna shook her head.  “There’s nothing to tell him—and anyway, he’s trying to keep the council from panicking.”  She looked at Arthur. “Is there anything you need?”

“Bors should show him the way to the Fortress of Coludd.”  Blaise grabbed Merlin’s arm, pulling him close.  “But I think he should stay here.”

“He might need me.”  Merlin looked at Arthur.  “What if the serpent is dangerous?”

“Of course it’s dangerous, Merlin, it’s a giant serpent.”  Arthur watched Bors select two horses.  “If it wasn’t formidable, someone would have already killed it by now.  Blaise is right, stay here.  It’s my task, anyway.”

Merlin watched Arthur and Bors lead their horses outside, doubt melting into suppressed giddiness upon his face.

“What else did you want to tell me?” Blaise said to Anna.

“The same night of the levitating horse, we tied the halter to my bedpost,” Caradoc answered.  “The following morning, on which a new horse appeared in the stables, one appeared in my chambers.”

“Any other reason to suspect a connection besides coincidence in the timing?” Blaise asked.

“And they’re both horses?  Not that we’ve found.” Caradoc fingered the hilt of her sword.

“It’s only a slight mystery, I know, but the horses had to have come from somewhere.  Even if magic is what conveyed them here.”  Anna stroked the black Arabian.

“Where’s the horse that appeared in your chambers?” Blaise asked Caradoc.

“Over here,” Anna said, leading them a few stalls down where the roan horse was being kept.  “They’re both normal, healthy horses.”

“We took the roan north yesterday to see if anyone was missing him,” Caradoc said.

“We’re riding west today,” Anna added.

“Leave them here,” Blaise indicated the horses.  Anna nodded, grabbing another horse as she and Caradoc set off.

Blaise instructed Edgar to have both horses watched constantly, and to notify him of anything strange. 

“What now?” Merlin asked as they left the stables.

“We talk to the nightwatch.  They’re supposed to be paying sober attention.”  Blaise strode down the streets with long, habituated steps.  Merlin jogged in spurts to keep up with him, darting between peasants and townsfolk, trying to stay at Blaise’s side.

“So, my first lesson is in floating livestock?” Merlin said into Blaise’s ear, glancing around with wary eyes and nearly tripping over a sleeping dog.

Blaise paused to look at Merlin, half scowling.  Merlin fidgeted, glancing around at the passers-by, who didn’t seem to care a bit about his presence or words.

“You realize that it’s going to be inconvenient to fulfill Ninaeve’s condition if we have to spend all our time hiding from—” Blaise saw Merlin’s apprehension transform into full blown anxiety.  “—your friend the Captain?”  

Merlin stared at Blaise a moment. 

“Ninaeve?” Merlin said.  “Ninniane, her sister?  Who are they?”

Blaise turned and continued walking down the street. 

“Well?”  Merlin was still rushing to keep up.  They ascended the castle steps.

“Priestesses,” Blaise said as they entered.  “ _Very_ powerful.”  Blaise rounded on Merlin.  “Do you know what’ll happen if I’m unable to teach you?”    

“Yes.”

Blaise continued down the corridor, following a circuitous route.  Merlin wondered what their destination was.  As soon as he knew they were alone, he spoke again.

“But magic’s illegal in Camelot—Arthur can’t know.”

“So we should prioritize your secrecy over Cameliard’s safety?”

Merlin hesitated too long—long enough that Blaise turned around, eyes narrowed.

“Please tell me that Arthur’s ignorance is not more important than peoples’ lives.”  Blaise’s mouth was the only part of his face that seemed to move as he pronounced each word—his eyes were locked on Merlin and his body was as rigid as rock.

Merlin dropped his gaze.  “It’s not.”

Blaise began walking again.

“But Ninaeve said ‘as long as he’s at Arthur’s side’,” Merlin caught up to Blaise.  “Which means that my place is at his side, whether here or in Camelot.  So please—we can say I have to be your apprentice as a physician.”

“Is Arthur an honorable man?”  Blaise again stopped, cornering Merlin.  “You don’t trust him—so does he not care about what’s right—is his sense of goodness a masquerade?”

“NO.”  Merlin stepped forward—he was nose to nose with Blaise.  “Arthur’s the most honorable man you’ll ever meet.  And I do trust him—I trust him with my life.”

“But not the details of your life.”  Blaise turned and once again walked along.

“Uther would have me executed.  Please.”  Merlin said when they paused in front of a door.

Blaise said nothing.  He knocked, sizing Merlin up and down.  The occupant opened up, eyes squinting.  Blaise apologized for waking him, and commenced questioning him as if Merlin was not there.  The knight, too, barely acknowledged Merlin’s presence, keeping his answers terse.  Each of the nightwatch were thus interviewed, but only one had spotted a horse hanging in the air—he had seen it descending from one of the castle towers, but had lost track of it amongst the rooftops.

The tower was the same in which Caradoc had chosen her chambers.

“Why did she choose chambers way up there?” Merlin asked as Blaise handed him book after book from his library.  “And if a horse came out of her room, how did one get in by morning?”

“The simplest explanation is that someone waited for a horse to appear in the halter, then switched it.  Which is quite disturbing.”

“Wouldn’t the simplest explanation be that the guard was hallucinating?”  Merlin glanced at the covers of each book Blaise passed to him—a pile was growing on the table.

“No, the _easiest_ explanation would be that the guard, and everyone else who claimed to have seen floating livestock, was hallucinating.  But we’d still have to figure out why those specific people saw that specific thing at the same time.”  Blaise descended the ladder and looked at the stack.  “And it wouldn’t explain why another horse randomly appeared in the stables the same night—assuming the events are related.”

“So someone takes the horse out the window, takes it to the stables, and puts another horse in its place in Caradoc’s chambers?  But nobody saw a second horse flying up.”

“No.”  Blaise sighed.  “Let’s figure out why later—focus on how.  To be honest, I’ve never had a need to levitate an animal.”

“Would levitating an animal be different than levitating something else?”

Blaise stared at Merlin for a moment, and then rushed out the door.  Merlin ran after, as Blaise scurried through town collecting a dog, a rat, and finally asking Edgar for the calmest horse available.  Merlin had only to carry the rat, as the dog was quite obedient and Blaise led the horse, Felix, outside the gates to a clearing far enough away to avoid drawing an audience.

Merlin felt a tug in his hands as the bag containing the rat pulled away.

“Let go,” Blaise said.  Merlin opened his fingers.  The dog started whining.

Merlin watched as Blaise, his hand outstretched, magically slid the bag out to a space between them.  The bag opened and the rat floated out.  As it entered the open air, it let out a squeak, flailing its paws and struggling as if it was trapped.  Consternation invaded Blaise’s face, and the rat dropped.  A yellow flash lit up Blaise’s eyes, and the rat was caught, hovering just above the dirt.  It was also dead.

“Guess you scared it.”

“That’s why we started with the rat.”  Blaise called to the dog, muttering into the dog’s face.  He repeated the exercise, the dog blithely hovering as high as Blaise wanted him to go.  When its paws again touched solid ground, the dog licked Blaise’s hands.

“What did you do?”

“Calmed him.”  Blaise moved over to Felix, who took a few wary steps back.  “Sshh-sh-sshh,” he soothed, reciting his spell to the horse.  No sooner had Blaise finished the incantation then Felix ascended into the sky.  Blaise turned to Merlin, “what are you doing?” 

But Merlin didn’t hear him.  Delight infused his face as he raised the horse ever higher, above the trees, where he moved it forward and back with a wave of his arm.

When he returned the horse to the ground, Blaise said “I suppose you assumed I was going to be impressed by that?”

Back in his chambers, Blaise grabbed a book from the middle of the stack.  “Learn to do the first step, then you can show off with the second step,” he shoved the book at Merlin.

It was a volume on the charming and control of animals.

“Third spell,” Blaise glared. 

Merlin nodded, crossing his arms with the book couched firmly against his chest, as if Blaise might change his mind and snatch it away.

 

                                                                                          *

Arthur wanted to travel through the night, but Bors refused to lead on without sleeping.  Arthur stared up as the gibbous moon imbued the grass around him with an eerie incandescence so similar to that from the crystal vines.  A light that might again burst from the walls of Cameliard if he failed.  Bors breathed beside him.  Arthur closed his eyes.

                                                                                          *

 

In the darkness of the pre-dawn morn, Merlin crouched beside a pigsty with Blaise’s book.  He had read through the night, excited by the copious spells—all on charming animals.  Incantations to calm them, put them to sleep, hypnotize them; spells on husbandry, on increasing fertility, on inducing sterility; potions for fattening, for strengthening, for sleek coats; how to call an animal or send it away to a specific place—some spells were complex, nearly songs, others were mere phrases, fragments. In the morning darkness, he called one sleeping pig to come.

It came.  He sent it to a corner.  He summoned another one, it came.  He summoned them all at once, and they gathered before him like a crowd awaiting a proclamation.  Merlin smiled and told them to go about their piggy business.

He walked toward the stables.  He saw a sleeping dog, and without turning or breaking his stride, muttered the spell.  The dog awoke and scampered to him, following at his side.  Merlin smiled.  He put the book in the dog’s mouth, and sent it off the Blaise’s chambers, watching as the dog ran down the lane and around a corner.

He stood where he was and muttered a summoning spell.  He waited.  Nothing.  He moved further along the direction of the stables, and again muttered the spell.  Nothing.  He moved until he could see the stables.  This time, he started the spell with the name Felix.  He heard a commotion in the stables as a horse kicked against wood.  Merlin ran in, calming Felix, first with a spell, then by stroking his nose.

“It’s okay," he whispered.  "I’m sorry, but the other one didn’t come when I called to him.”  Merlin looked at the stable door.  “I guess I should have realized.”  He picked up a brush and moved to the roan horse that had appeared in Caradoc’s chambers.  The horse, however, was not interested in being brushed—it whinnied and neighed, shaking its head and snorting until Merlin stopped trying.

“Fine.”

Merlin returned to the outside of the stables, leaving the door wide open.  He called to the roan, but it didn’t come.  He summoned it again, but it remained in the stables.  Merlin peered inside, but there was nothing hindering the horse.  As he walked back to his spot outside, he summoned Felix.  Felix trotted after him.  He summoned the other horses, all at once, and they came—the roan trailed behind.

Merlin gestured to the roan, reciting the spell to send it back to its place inside—recited so quietly he was barely whispering.  The roan did nothing.  He chose a spell to send it down to the end of one of the streets, enunciating each word loudly.  The horse looked at him, but then obeyed.

Merlin called the horse to return, but it stood at the end of the lane, staring back.  Merlin repeated the spell, again enunciating each word, as well as beckoning with his fingers.  The horse returned.  Merlin patted the roan’s nose, but it seemed to have no desire or patience for such friendliness—so he sent the horse back into the stables.  He sent the rest of the horses, one by one, back into the stables.  Each one did immediately as commanded.

“You probably just said the spell wrong the first time,” Blaise said when Merlin had told him about the roan’s strange response.

“I said it the same as with all the other horses.”  Merlin sat at the table watching Blaise examine the book, which now had deep teeth marks where the dog had refused to yield it.

“Look, we all have to practice to learn, it takes time.  Pride yourself on the fact that you mastered these spells faster than anyone I’ve ever heard of—and accept that nonetheless, we all make mistakes.”  Blaise looked up from the mangled book to see Merlin open the book lying on the table.   “You could’ve also gotten distracted,” Blaise smacked him.

Merlin closed the book and pushed it aside.  He reached out across the table, stretching his arms.  Then he put his head down.

“You should go get some sleep—real sleep,” Blaise said, putting the books back on the shelf.  “Go on—there’ll be plenty of time later to show off.”

Merlin wasn’t sure how he got back to his room, only that his thought before his head hit the pillow and dragged him off to sleep was _where’s Arthur?_

                                                                                          * 

The Fortress of Coludd lay buried in among the rocky cliffs and overhangs along the shore.  Waves crashed, leapt, splashed and sank away—Arthur and Bors could feel the salt spray as they regarded the tiny peninsula on which the Fortress stood.  Even from the distance they were at, they could see the disrepair crumbling the walls.  The path that first descended, then climbed up to the front gates was overgrown with grass and weeds.

“You should stay here,” Arthur said, straining his neck to look at the way the Fortress seemed to merge with the cliffs—had the builders dug deep into the ground, or was the Fortress so old that dirt and underbrush had piled up?

“You going to waste energy trying to force me to?”

Arthur looked at Bors.  Bors looked at Arthur.  They dismounted.

The gates weren’t that far away.

                                                                                          *

 

Anna and Caradoc had ridden south, a brief sojourn in each town they passed, trying to hit every populated area Caradoc could remember.  They asked about missing horses in each place.  Horses occasionally disappeared or were stolen, they were told.  But no roan nor black Arabian.

They returned in the evening, the setting sun elongating their shadows in motion.  Anna went to greet her father and found him staring out a window at the sky.  Julia and Erik sat at the table behind him, bare place settings before them.

“I certainly hope your pet is as good at cleaning up messes as he is at making them.”  Julia spoke up into the air, pretending she hadn’t seen Anna.

“I think he’s established the answer to that question.”  Leodogran leaned his head over to let Anna kiss his cheek.  “Hello, my girl.”

“And yet you stare so forlornly out the window.”  Julia had a knife clenched between her fingers.

“If there’s anything I can do to help . . .” Erik glanced from Julia to Leodogran to Anna still in trousers and a vest, hair falling out of her braid.

“That’s quite alright,” Leodogran said, taking his seat.

“Blaise says the Captain made the offense, he must make the amends.”  Anna sat down, and servants came forward with food and wine.

Polite conversation passed, and Anna excused herself— _fatigued from the day_ , she said.  Instead of retiring to her chamber, however, she detoured to the stables.  She spoke briefly to Edgar, and then went inside, where she found Merlin whispering to one of the horses.  The horse lifted its back leg.  Merlin whispered, and the horse lowered its leg.  Merlin whispered again, and the horse lifted its front leg.  Merlin again incanted some inaudible spell, and the horse lowered its leg.  He petted its nose, glancing toward the roan horse before noticing that Anna was watching him.

“I think it’s wiser to let the horse control its own movements,” she said.  “If you try to do the galloping for it, you’ll just get thrown.”

Merlin smiled, looking around.  “You’re right, of course.”  He backed away from the horse, and headed out the door.  Anna caught up with him outside.

“Was I not supposed to see that?”

“I—I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“With whom?”  Anna pulled Merlin’s arm, forcing him to stop and face her.  He glanced around.

“I—um—Blaise.  I was just supposed to practice calming animals.”

“That’s a useful skill,” Anna nodded.  “Is Blaise teaching you magic?  I’ve never known him to accept a student before.”

“Really?  I would’ve thought a lot of people would want to learn from him—there aren’t many sorcerers to learn from these days.  Is he not very good?”

Anna laughed.  “Blaise is very good—he’d have a reputation if it was wise for sorcerers to be known.  But since very few places tolerate it . . .” she stared off, and Merlin nodded in agreement.

“Tell me,” she said, “you don’t happen to know any details about the halter Lord Erik gave me?”

“I might be able to find out—I helped Blaise research earlier.”

Anna thought for a moment.  “Edgar says that the roan won’t let anyone but Cara ride him.  Especially men—anytime a man tries to mount him, the roan seems to panic.  Blaise said the halter gives the best horse for the person,” she furrowed her brow, “and I was wondering if it charms the horse in some way to only accept one rider.”

“Can I show you something?” Merlin said to her.  He raised his hand and recited the summoning spell.  Nothing happened.

“What are you showing me?”

“I’m summoning the horse that appeared in Cara’s chambers.”

Anna looked toward the stables.  “Looks like you need more practice.”

“Really?  How about this then?”  Merlin again muttered the spell, keeping the cadence and volume the same as before.  Felix came trotting up.  Merlin turned to Anna, “if I call them all one by one, the roan will wander out, like he’s just following the crowd—”

“Like that?” Anna pointed to the stable door.  “How long have you been practicing this?”

The roan trotted up to them.  Merlin patted its nose and said the spell to send it back inside—the roan obeyed.  When it was halfway to the stable, Merlin muttered another spell, but it continued on its way.

“What were you trying to do?”

For an answer, Merlin sent Felix back toward the stables, muttering the same spell when Felix was halfway there.  Felix turned and trotted around the stables—and then reentered. 

“Blaise thinks I’m not concentrating.”

Anna contemplated this information, her eyes darting back and forth without seeing.  “Walk with me,” she said, linking her arm in his and pulling him toward the castle.  “Can you seal windows?”  She leaned close, whispering to him.  “And I don’t mean just turn the locks with an incantation.  I mean seal windows to be unopenable?”

“I might be able to find a spell.”

“Tonight?”

Merlin nodded.

“Can you also get armor that fits you?”  She was still whispering as they walked, glancing around and staring at every passer-by.

“Sure.  Why?”

“Come to my chambers as soon as you get them.”  Anna released his arm and hurried off.  Merlin stared after her, looking at the square around him as if it could offer some clarification.

Blaise was poring over some tome when Merlin entered his chambers.  He didn’t seem surprised by Anna’s request, merely opened a book and handed it over.  “Don’t steal the armor—it’ll draw attention.  And let me know what you discover,” Blaise called as Merlin charged from the room.

Merlin tried to borrow Taran’s armor, but he found that Taran and Cadoc had left that afternoon to follow Arthur to the Fortress of Coludd.

“How do they know the way?” Merlin asked.

“Apparently most people know the way—it’s something of a legend in this kingdom,” Sir Brandt said, leaning over awkwardly on his bed to pick a book up off the floor without disturbing his broken leg.  “Anyway,” Brandt grunted, “you can borrow my armor if it means that much to the Princess.  It’s not like I’m using it.”

Caradoc was just getting into Anna’s bed when Merlin entered.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” she said.

“Seal the windows—tight,” Anna said to Merlin as she tossed the halter to Caradoc.

“Can I ask what we’re doing?”  Merlin went over to one of the windows and opened the book Blaise had provided.

“Best means best—I’m wondering which horse will show up tonight.”  Anna watched Caradoc tie the halter to the bed.

“But we already know the horses were switched.”

Anna waited as Merlin put the spell on the first window.  “We suspect, we don’t have proof,” she said.

“And if the prankster tries again . . .” Caradoc lay back and pulled the covers up.

“We’ll be waiting.”  Anna indicated her own armor piled on a table, next to the spot Merlin had dumped Brandt’s upon entering.  “I’ve also posted guards to watch each window.”  Anna began suiting up as Merlin finished sealing the windows.  “You can stay awake all night, right?” she asked as she helped Merlin adjust Brandt’s armor.

Merlin nodded, and they posted themselves outside Anna’s door.

“Isn’t this a little . . . inappropriate for a princess?” Merlin said.

“Guards don’t talk,” said Anna.

 

“Guards aren’t supposed to be asleep.”  Blaise banged Merlin’s helmet.  Morning light streamed in from a distant window.

“Agh—guards also get relieved,” Merlin pulled the helmet off, rubbing his head.

They entered Anna’s chambers to see the black Arabian tied to the bed.

“Cara,” Anna shook Caradoc’s sleeping form.  “Cara.”

“I’m awake!” Caradoc sat up.  She squeezed her eyes tight and opened them wide in a hyperbolic display of blinking.  She looked at the horse.  “Damn.  I fell asleep.”  She flopped back on the pillows.

“Well, now we have proof,” Merlin said.

“Somehow, the prankster found out you were trying the halter the first time, but not this time.”  Blaise patted the black Arabian and probed the halter around its head.

“Blaise thinks the guy was hiding in my chambers last time,” Caradoc called from her supine position.

“That’s disturbing,” Anna said.

“Where else did you discuss your plans?” Blaise asked.

“So, he was in your room last time, levitating the horse down from the window, and sending it to the stables with magic,” Merlin’s face fell with the realization.  “What about the second horse?”

“There is no second horse,” Anna said.

“That bastard crapped in my room!” Caradoc sat up.

“Cara!  I think we should concentrate on how long someone’s been hiding in your chambers,” Anna said.  “And how he got there unnoticed in the first place.”

“Wait, you think someone transformed himself into a horse?”  Merlin looked at Blaise, “can that be done?”

“Don’t get your hopes up—it takes more power and skill than I have.  In fact, I’ve never known anyone besides a priestess who can perform transformations like this.”

“What about revealing true forms?  Expose the—horse,” Merlin asked.

“That,” Blaise looked at Merlin, “that we probably can do.”  Blaise rushed from the room.  After a moment: “I said _we_!”

“We’ll help, too,” Anna said to him, sniffing herself.  “After I bathe.”

 

                                                                                          *

Cadoc and Taran crept up to the decrepit gates of Coludd.  The walls on either side had long since tumbled down the steep inclines that turned the tiny isthmus into a precarious bridge linking the Fortress to the cliff where four horses now stood.

“Cadoc, the next time you want to drag me off on some idiotic quest for a pat on the head, just shoot an arrow in my eye and get it over with,” Taran hissed as they passed beneath the arch that was more formality than barrier.

“We haven’t died yet.”  Cadoc peered around the grounds. 

“We haven’t faced anything yet.” 

They heard a commotion from the main building.  Running toward the grand entrance, they saw Arthur dwarfed by a large serpent whose sinuous form darted and swiveled as Arthur attacked.  Its green-yellow eyes leered down at Arthur, its scales like black feathers.  Several bleeding gashes in its body showed where Arthur had landed blows.  The serpent made one last feint—Arthur swung once, a wide arc slicing down halfway through the serpent’s neck.  He readjusted his footing and completed the separation as the creature flopped and rolled.  Arthur paused, trying to catch his breath as he stared at the decapitated snake.  A woman’s bare foot touched the head, folds of red dress falling around it.  Her long dark hair swept the stones as she bent over to pick it up.  She gazed into its dead eyes, declaring “ _this_ debt has been repaid.”  Then she exited through a small door in the back.

Arthur watched her go, his mouth moving as if he were going to shout after her, but instead he exhaled.  “We have to get him back to Cameliard,” Arthur pointed to Bors slumped over in the corner to the left of the three knights.

Taran scooped Bors up, while Cadoc offered his shoulder to an exhausted Arthur.

                                                                                          *

 

The roan horse had been removed from the stables to a jail cell.

Blaise led the way down the dank corridor.  Merlin strode close beside him, carrying a book and a mirror.  Leodogran, Anna and Caradoc followed.  The stones bled yellow and orange in the torchlight—when they rounded the corner to view the prisoner, Erik was standing by in the shadows, and there were two guards on either side of the cell.

“Lord Erik,” Leodogran said, “we would be poor hosts to burden you with our minor troubles—you should return to your chambers.  Julia will gladly provide you with entertainment, I’m sure.”

Erik looked over to the cell where the roan horse chewed some straw.  “I heard your ‘minor troubles’ involved a sorcerer—since your Captain is preoccupied, I feel I would be a poor guest not to lend my services.”

“I think of all kingdoms, we are most qualified to contend with sorcery,” Anna said and Erik turned his gaze to her.  “But if you won’t think any less of our hospitality, we accept your offer,” she quickly added.

“Blaise,” Leodogran said. 

Merlin stepped back so that he was nearly leaning against the farthest wall.  He held up the mirror that Blaise had charmed earlier, and everyone stared into it, clearing the way so that the featured subject was the occupant of the cell.  Merlin bent his head to gaze at the upside-down image.  Whereas their naked eyes saw a roan horse behind the bars, the mirror revealed a tall man, lean, wearing a red shirt and brown trousers.  Several baubles and pendants hung around his neck, and dark bangs obscured his eyes.  He smiled—not so much at his image in the mirror, but at Caradoc whose face had fallen with recognition.

“Eliavres,” she said softly.

“Cara?” Anna turned to her.

“I rode you!”  Caradoc pivoted toward the cell door.  Anna grabbed her hand and stroked her arm, holding her back.  In the cell, the horse’s hide split, a cracked shell that fell to the floor and sublimated in a burst of vapor.  The man now standing there matched his reflection.

“Not yet,” he smiled at Caradoc, ignoring everyone else.

“Caradoc,” Leodogran’s voice was firm, his face hard, “who is this man?”

Caradoc’s upper lip trembled and her eyes narrowed.  “A powerful sorcerer—more powerful than I had initially thought—and far more selfish than I had thought.”

“My good king,” Eliavres kept his attention locked on Caradoc, “I have shown this woman nothing but respect and admiration, and she has shown me nothing but scorn.”

“So you hid in her chambers?”  Blaise stood rigid, his voice a pinprick of ice.

“I only provided what she asked for.  And I make an excellent mount,” he smiled.  Caradoc rushed the cell, flinging her arms through the bars in an attempt to punch him, but Eliavres backed away.  Anna and Blaise pulled Caradoc toward the center of the room—Blaise remained next to the bars, glaring at the sorcerer within.

“My Lord,” Eliavres turned his gaze to Leodogran, “is it a crime to impersonate a horse?”

“It’s a crime to enter a woman’s chambers without her permission or knowledge,” answered Anna.

“You have certainly presented me with a unique situation, I’ll warrant that,” Leodogran said. 

“And you have certainly offended the Lady,” Erik stepped forward, drawing all eyes to him—they’d forgotten he was there.  “She clearly doesn’t want your attentions—”

“Then I shall take my leave.”  Impatience had clouded Eliavres’s face as Erik spoke, and he lifted one of the pendants around his neck to his lips.  Blaise shouted for the cell to be opened, and almost hit the guard for not obeying swiftly enough—he entered the cell as Eliavres completed his incantation.  Blaise made a wild grab, but Eliavres had disappeared into black smoke, leaving Blaise only with a few strands of hair in his long fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Erik said.

“For what?  That was his escape plan all along.”  Leodogran stared into the cell where only his own sorcerer stood.  Anna held Caradoc’s hand, and the two guards stared agape.  Merlin, still backed against the farthest wall, lowered the mirror.

 

“Well, at least you managed to pull some hair.”  Merlin watched Blaise brew a potion.

“Yes I did.”  Blaise dropped the hairs into the boiling liquid.  He looked into the pot.  “I wanted to apologize for not believing you earlier—about the horses.  I’ve never seen abilities like yours—it was easier to think you messed up.”

“It’s alright,” Merlin smiled.

“Here, stir it until it gets thick,” Blaise handed Merlin a thin ladle.

“How long will that be?”

“Oh, it’ll be a while,” Blaise said as he left the room.  When Blaise returned, it was through the door of the adjacent room.  He threw a small jar of a yellowish, viscous substance at Merlin, and grabbed a vial from one of the shelves, eyeing the level of the blue liquid inside.  Merlin followed him into the larger room containing a dozen beds—Bors lay unconscious in one bed while Arthur sat, trying not to fall over, in another.  Anna sat beside him.

“Will they be okay?” she asked, steadying Arthur and looking toward Bors. 

“It’ll take a few days to flush the poison from Bors—but he’s mostly just cut and bruised,” Blaise indicated Arthur.  He poured some of the blue liquid down Bors’s throat and instructed Merlin to rub the yellowish substance into the skin around the hole in Bors’s shoulder where the serpent had bit him.  Blaise then turned to Arthur, cleaning and binding his wounds, a little deeper than mere cuts.

“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about the witch’s curse anymore,” Arthur said, watching Merlin rub the ointment onto Bors’s skin.

“Mostly,” Blaise said as he bandaged Arthur.

“What do you mean?—I killed the serpent—the giant serpent—it was huge—of Coludd.”  Arthur swayed on the bed.  Anna and Blaise propped him up.

“The witch’s name is Ninaeve.  And she was upset about my behavior as well.  My punishment is to train Merlin—personally, I think you got off easy.”

“Oh.”  Arthur collapsed back onto the bed as Blaise finished.  Anna and Merlin pulled blankets over him.  She sat by him and Bors for a few minutes while Blaise and Merlin returned to Blaise’s chambers.  Blaise poured the thickened concoction that Merlin had been stirring—that had somehow reduced to little more than a spoonful—into a mold.  Merlin looked around, wondering if Blaise had pilfered his tools from a baker or a blacksmith.  Perhaps he had borrowed from every trade in the city.  The mold set in a few minutes, revealing a purple stone.

“Is that my warning bell?”  Caradoc stood in the doorway.

“It’ll get warm and change color when Eliavres is nearby.”

“How nearby?”

“How far can you throw a rock?”

“How big a rock?”

“This big.”  Blaise held out the purple stone, and their fingers brushed as Caradoc took it.  “Where are you sleeping?” he asked.

“Anna offered to let me stay with her.”

“Where _are_ you sleeping?”

Caradoc looked at the stone in her hands, her face worn and worried.  Blaise tilted his head toward another door in the room that led to the small chamber where he slept.

“Go,” he said.  “I’ll be out here all night anyway, checking on our returning champion.”

Caradoc smiled weakly and nodded, closing the door behind her.

“Do you think Eliavres would hurt her?”  Merlin stared at the wood of the door.

“I don’t know, Merlin, I really don’t.  Believe me, I wish I did.”

“Are you and she—” Merlin started, but the look on Blaise’s face stopped him.

Blaise placed the small pot in a bucket of water, staring at the ripples his hands made.  “Do you know what it means to trust someone with your life—truly trust someone you care about?” 

“Arthur can’t know.”  It was almost a whisper—Merlin wasn’t sure Blaise heard him.

“Arthur is not Uther.”  Blaise finally turned around to look at Merlin.  “I’ve known him less than a month, and I can see that.  If you were truly his friend, you’d have realized that as well.”

“How do you know Uther?”  Merlin paused a moment, but Blaise didn’t answer.  “Did you used to live in Camelot?”

“I used to be Gaius’s apprentice,” Blaise said after a moment, as he began transferring books from the table back to the shelves.  “He was my teacher for ten years—I left Camelot in the middle of the Purge, during which I got to watch as innocent people were slaughtered and Gaius revealed himself a coward.”

“At least he stayed and did what he could—you chose to run away.”

“Run away?” Blaise swerved.  “Look around you, imbecile—how do you think I got all these books—where do you think they came from?  Most were smuggled—by me or to me—at great risk—because we all believed the knowledge in them was worth saving.  We smuggled people, too—because innocent lives were definitely worth saving.  ‘Did what he could’—what Gaius _could_ do was keep his head down.”

“Then why did he save my father’s life?”

Blaise looked at Merlin.

“My father was a Dragonlord, and Gaius protected him.”

Blaise’s face softened.  “You’re Balinore’s son?  That’s interesting.”  Blaise turned to organize his bookshelf.  “So Gaius remembers one of the few he helped.”  Blaise replaced the last book then looked as Merlin, crossing his arms.  “Tell me, does he even remember the names of those he _watched burn?_ ”

Merlin said nothing—he turned his attention to his fingertips.

“Oh, I see—you think Uther’s the only villain in this story.  You think it’s enough to disagree internally—that so long as a man _believes_ that a thing is wrong, he can watch from the sidelines with a clean conscience.”

“What was Gaius supposed to do?”  Merlin looked up at Blaise.

“More than he did.  For example, I know he _wasn’t_ the one who taught Arthur to judge people based on the merit of their actions rather than the quirks of their birth.”

Once again, Merlin could only respond by turning away.

“Arthur is not Uther.”  Blaise sat down at a small desk.  He opened two books, one a worn volume full of writing, the other only half full.  Blaise turned to a blank page and began transcribing, concentrating on each word as he wrote it.

 

                                                                                          ~Ò~

 

Uther sat at the long table in the main hall.  Before him, a plate a food he sporadically picked at.  He held his goblet of wine close to his lips, but didn’t drink—he stared at the empty chair at the other end of the table.

The doors opened.  Gaius entered.

Uther sat forward in his chair, placing the goblet back on the table.  “Any news?”

“Nothing definitive, I’m afraid—only that there have been no more reports of a manticore or similar creature.  Although, no carcass has been sighted either.”

Uther sighed.  “You were right, Gaius, I should have summoned him back to Camelot.”

“No, sire, you were right—Arthur can take care of himself.  I’m sure this is just a problem with communication.”  Gaius smiled meekly, then bowed his head and left.

Uther leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes and muttering. 

It might have been a prayer.

 

 

_\--end--_                                                                          

                  


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